


code word

by DeHeerKonijn



Series: like, comment, subscribe [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Kink Negotiation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:01:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeHeerKonijn/pseuds/DeHeerKonijn
Summary: Gimli is slow and steady in many ways, especially in bed. Like any dwarrow worth his beard, he is sensual and romantic. Hemakes love, thank you, and never used to get the appeal of this rough stuff, but sometimes -sometimes-
Relationships: Gimli (Son of Glóin)/Legolas Greenleaf
Series: like, comment, subscribe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2183949
Comments: 38
Kudos: 375





	code word

**Author's Note:**

> Not-quite-so-out-of-the-blue, I found myself in the mood for some aftercare today, and after I did a quick scribble the planets aligned in such a way that made me once again try my dippy hand at writing.
> 
> This is a modern AU that aligns with characterization in my own drawn doodle series, which you can find on [Tumblr](https://deheerkonijn.tumblr.com/tagged/mod-gigos) and my [Twitter](www.twitter.com/deheerkonijn), but there's nothing in particular you need to know to read it, other than the fact that they are still an elf and dwarf, and that my sex headcanons for Gigolas are: Legolas is new to intimate physical sensation and once he has it, wants to experience it a lot. Gimli has grown handsomely into love. <3
> 
> Please do not post my artwork anywhere without my permission!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Gimli grunts, pushes into Legolas with so much force the headboard cracks against the wall again, again again - he can’t spare any thought for the neighbors, for the mark it will chip into the paint, because he’s pushing and pushing and finally - finally coming, not just tipping but thundering over the edge of climax like a collapsing building. After his vision clears, the roar and ring in his ears abates, he is aware enough to know his breath is coming in great heaving gulps. From outside the _beep-beep-beep_ of a late-night delivery truck just barely seeps through the window, little reminders that life in Minas Tirith drums on and on despite the womb-like dimness of their private world.

Legolas’ voice will be useless tomorrow. For now (rare as it is), he is beyond words; silent, save for the rattle of his own gasping and panting at the heavy air of their bedroom. The elf stares at the ceiling, honey-brown eyes unfocused, unseeing - apparently unaware of the cramped position he is still folded into, legs hooked over Gimli’s huge shoulders, arms held against slender sides and wrists gripped tight - _tighter, please_ \- tight as iron are Gimli’s hands, pinning his husband to the bed as a butterfly in a collector’s catalogue.

Gimli steadies himself, steadies his breathing. He exhales, then gets to work.

Inverse to all the power with which Gimli took him, the strong muscle that Legolas purrs and howls and sometimes tweets approval of -- when he pulls out of Legolas, it is gentle. He does it with more care than he has ever done anything else, and even still Legolas jolts with overstimulated sensation. Gimli can feel the muscles in his calves and thighs flexing and twitching as their sweat-slicked skin glides together, but then Gimli is out of him. He slowly - slowly bends Legolas’ knees only for as long as it takes to maneuver the long legs off of his shoulder, and then bows his own back to lean in and inspect the used ring of muscle until he is satisfied. He ghosts a blunt fingertip through the lube and come along blushing rim, and Legolas’ whole body seizes as if electrocuted.

“Sorry, love, just checking.” Gimli soothes, though Legolas can’t hear him, not yet.

They don’t fuck like this often - in fact, it took some considerable persuading from Legolas the first time. Gimli is slow and steady in many ways, especially in bed. Like any dwarrow worth his beard, he is sensual and romantic. He _makes love_ , thank you, and never used to get the appeal of this rough stuff, but sometimes - _sometimes_ -

They have a code word. Well, not a code _word_ ; it’s one of those weird, rarely used emoji - Legolas picked it specifically so that neither of them would text it accidentally. It’s how Legolas negotiates asking for what he wants while respecting that Gimli is not always in the mindset to engage. Gimli knows if he doesn’t respond, there won’t be any hard feelings - Legolas understands him like nobody ever has. But if he does respond...

His thick fingers _bump bump bump_ along the picket fence of Legolas’ rib cage - cradle the heart and lungs and sinew that make up this beguiling creature he’s been entrusted with. The skin there prickles with goosebumps in the cooling sweat. One of his slim wrists is already blooming with faint clouds of purple. Gimli has to remember that Legolas wears these marks proudly.

He remembers the night Legolas shyly explained himself, what he wanted to try.

He remembers being hesitant at first; but for Legolas he’ll do just about anything, even when that thing is storming home from work, hauling the love of his life off the couch and forcefully over a shoulder, tossing him down onto their marital bed like a criminal in an action film. Even when that thing is twisting his arm behind his back. Even when it’s holding him firmly in place by the back of the neck as he fucks down into his body, forcing those long legs to spread wide.

(All prepared for, of course - the only attention the yo-yo emoji will ever get probably from anyone ever.)

He remembers how much Legolas loved it.

It’s like being dropped into the ocean, Legolas says of the sensation. Well, Gimli’s a land-dweller by nature, but from Legolas’ cries and praise Gimli has to trust that it’s what he wants. Gimli trusts Legolas like Legolas trusts Gimli to take care of him when he’s dazed and limp, tremor in his hands alarmingly noticeable.

Gimli has to trust Legolas when he says these things mean it was _good_ , that Gimli _did_ take care of him, but something in the dwarf still holds his breath as he cleans them both up, gets the oil, rubs Legolas down like a worn horse, soothing his spent muscles and stiff joints. He holds his breath until Legolas begins to come back.

He’ll do anything for Legolas, but _this_ part is for Gimli in equal measure.

Gimli is working at Legolas’ calf by the time he notices the elf watching him from under heavy lids. The smile his husband cracks mirrors his own, and though it’s weak the gratitude behind it feels like the summer sun.

“Hey. You here?” Gimli says, lifting the leg he was massaging to press a kiss to the knee. Legolas keeps smiling at him, blinking slowly and struggling through a swallow so dry Gimli can hear how raw it must be.

“I’m gonna get you some water, ok?” Gimli asks. Legolas blinks again, and manages a peaceful nod.

When Gimli returns, he carefully helps Legolas ease up into a sitting position. He tucks a sticky strand of golden hair behind an ear, hovers a hand under where Legolas is managing to navigate the weighty glass -- just in case.

“Do you think you’ll want to shower tonight?”

Legolas shakes his head no, and Gimli thinks it’s for the best - sticky or not, he looks exhausted. Good thing tomorrow is a bank holiday. They’ll sleep in til noon, and then make pancakes in their underwear, as per sacred tradition. For now, they sit in warm silence together, and while the wall clock taps away at the late hour and Legolas carefully sips, Gimli braids back his long hair for him.

“ _Than-,_ ” Legolas finally croaks after some time, clears his throat and gets a better handle on it the second attempt. “Thank you.”

“Was it good?” Gimli asks, pressing a firm kiss to the apple of his cheek. He lets the long rope of the finished braid drape over Legolas’ shoulder, smoothing it down.

“Always is,” Legolas huffs a happy sigh.

“Ready for a cuddle?”

“Mmm,” Legolas places the empty glass on the nightstand with a wobbly effort, and then shimmies down again to the pillows. Gimli rises from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and makes the quick rounds, turns off the lights still left on in their apartment. When he climbs back into their bed, Legolas rolls over onto Gimli’s side as if drawn by a magnet. His lips are cracked, but the slow pull of his kiss is like honey. Gimli would accuse him of invading his space to stay out of the wet spot, but as Legolas tucks himself under Gimli’s jaw, smooths his fingertips against his shoulderblade in a hypnotic rhythm, Gimli’s eyes slip closed. He feels safe, taken care of.


End file.
